Ode: Vengeance Will Sit Above Our Faults; But Till

Vengeance will sit above our faults; but till She there do sit, We see her not, nor them. Thus, blind, yet still We lead her way; and thus, whilst we do ill, We suffer it.

Unhappy he whom youth makes not beware Of doing ill. Enough we labour under age, and care; In number, th’ errors of the last place are The greatest still.

Yet we, that should the ill we now begin As soon repent, Strange thing! perceive not; our faults are not seen, But past us; neither felt, but only in The punishment.

But we know ourselves least; mere outward shows Our minds so store, That our souls no more than our eyes disclose But form and colour. Only he who knows Himself, knows more.